


One Should Never Take the Advice of Meddlesome Older Brothers

by doctormccoy



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everybody Lives, Fluff and schmoop, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-BOFA, courting fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili has known Ori is his One for many years, and now that Erebor has been reclaimed he finally feels able to take their friendship to the next level. His mistake is asking Fili for advice on how to approach him.</p>
<p>Luckily there's at least one older brother who knows what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Should Never Take the Advice of Meddlesome Older Brothers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ibijau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibijau/gifts).



> Fluffy gift fic for Tagath, because they were having a crappy day. :)
> 
> Yes I succumbed to the courting trope. But it's always fun to read and write, so, here you have it.

"I really don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this," Fili sighed, lounging on the end of Kili's bed to watch the younger Durin pace across the floor by the fire with an uncharacteristic look of concentration on his face. 

Kili whirled on his older brother with a glare, lips pursed in annoyance at Fili's flippant attitude.

"Not all of us can just go up to our One and offer to clean their weapon," he snapped, voice heavily laden with sarcasm. If Dwalin hadn't been receptive to Fili's advances he would have just cuffed him upside the head and their friendship would have carried on without a hiccup.

Ori was different. He was special, he deserved something unique.

It's not that he was weaker than Dwalin, because Kili honestly thought the smaller dwarf was the bravest of them all, coming on such a journey without much prior training in combat. He and Fili had been trained from birth to be warriors, but Ori was the youngest of a poor family of lesser status. He'd already been trained as a scribe and artist, and was a fully fledged, respectable adult in the eyes of their society. He had nothing to prove in coming, unlike Kili or Fili, but he'd come anyways. 

Kili liked to think that maybe it was because of the friendship they shared that Ori felt compelled to join him in Thorin's venture.

Most likely it was because he wanted to help his brothers, but Kili could dream.

"Kili, you have that look on your face again," Fili sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes at the soft, gooey expression his brother wore. He had watched him and the young scribe silently pine after each other since they were children, and even Thorin knew their betrothal was a matter of inevitability rather than possibility.

But if Kili continued at the pace he was going now, Ori would be as old as Balin before the dwarf so much as offered to court him!

Looking chastened, Kili groaned and sank down to sit crosslegged on the floor, pouting at the rug as if expecting it to give him all the answers he required. Fili hated seeing his brother look so dejected, and slid off the bed to join him on the floor, nudging at Kili's stubbled chin to make him look up and meet his gaze.

"You're a real Prince, now, Kee. Ori would have to be crazy to turn you down, even if you weren't already quite the charmer," he reminded, earning the smallest of smiles from the brunet. They had taken their home back, Thorin sat on the throne, and Erebor prospered under his leadership, now, many long months since the clash outside its gates. Tenuous peace had been made with the Elves of Mirkwood, even, and caravans arrived every day with Dwarves returning to the homeland of their ancestors. Kili was well within his rights to take a consort of his choosing, now. Fili certainly hadn't wasted any time. He'd pounced on Dwalin before they had even gotten to rinse off the blood and sweat of the Battle, and he hadn't regretted the decision since.

Struck by a sudden idea, Fili's eyes brightened, and he grabbed at his brother's shoulders, shaking him slightly.

"Flowers! Why don't you give him flowers, Kili? Bilbo said that it was custom in the Shire for a male to express interest in a female by gifting them a bouquet of flowers," he suggested, watching a dubious frown spread over Kili's mouth. 

"But, brother.. Won't that make Ori think I believe him to be.. well.. soft?" Kili mused, wincing at the very idea. If Ori didn't kill him for suggesting such a thing, Nori or Dori certainly would. 

Fili shook his head vehemently and pulled Kili to his f eet, giving him a winning smile.

"Nonsense, Kee! You'll be saying he's as beautiful as a flower, and be giving him something nice to look at and think of you," he insisted with such sincerity that Kili couldn't help but give in, smiling back at him.

"Alright, brother. I'll give it a try. There's plenty growing by the forest so I'm sure I can find something that he'll like."

He ran off with this goal in mind, determined that today would be the day he won Ori's heart and hand.

~*~*~*~*~*~

In hindsight, Kili should have known better than to take the advice of certain older brothers.

At first Ori had been merely confused by the large bouquet of flowers Kili had suddenly thrust towards him, eyebrows knitting as he stared at the mix of marigolds, yellow carnations, and hydrangeas. Kili, of course, didn't know what kind of flowers they were. He'd merely thought they were pretty, and he liked the mix of yellow, gold, and pale purple together, and so he'd gathered them together in a bundle and ran back up to Erebor, smudged with dirt and wild eyed with excitement.

"Thank you for the gift. I apologize for whatever it was I did that made you feel this way," Ori said with such icy anger in his tone that Kili almost physically recoiled from him, mouth dropping open and eyes wide. He watched as the scribe threw his gift to the floor and straightened up, arms at his side.

"Is there anything else you required, Prince Kili, or may I return my duties? Balin has requested I transcribe his notes from the council meeting this morning."

Kili is so dumbstruck he can't even form words, and he stares at Ori for several long moments before the dwarf finally spins on his heel and marches away, leaving the Prince to stare at the ruined mess of flowers on the stone floor in front of him. That shock turns to anger, and he is tempted to go after Ori and give him a piece of his mind before the rush of sadness overwhelms the anger. Maybe he hadn't been expecting an overwhelming yes, but he certainly hadn't thought Ori would reject him so vehemently. 

He _knew_ flowers had been a bad idea.

Dejected and hurt, Kili wandered away like a dog with its tail between its legs, leaving the flowers where they lay on the cold stone. If Ori did not wish to be courted, then Kili would leave him be.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When he's still sulking several days later, intervention comes in an unexpected form.

He's trudging back from sparring with Dwalin the ginger dwarf catches him, drawing a yelp from Kili, who suddenly finds himself dragged into a store room and the exit blocked by Nori's familiar star shaped head, a rather sinister looking smirk on his face.

"Hello, little Prince. I've been looking for you," he says coolly, drawing a throwing knife from his sleeve and toying with it idly in front of him, leaning back against the door as if he were disinterested in the conversation. 

Kili feels a shiver go down his spine and backs away against the shelving at the opposite end of the storeroom, deducing that his head was decidedly at risk of being parted from the rest of him.

He wasn't about to get away, though, and Nori advances on him with a smile on his face that shows far too many teeth for Kili to feel comfortable, knife in hand. And then they're nose to nose, and the tip of that knife prickles against the soft skin under Kili's chin, twisting ever so slightly to draw a drop of blood.

"Tell me, little Prince... Can you explain to me why my dear younger brother has not given me a smile in eight days and walks with a cloud of hurt and upset hanging low upon his brow," Nori asks in a silky tone that does little to ease Kili's nerves, what with the knife drawing irritated red lines into the flesh.

Kili fought the urge to swallow, the movement pressing his throat against the sharp blade as he tried to form a sentence from the jumble of words in his head that would appease the simmering dwarf.

"I.. I could not surmise to know. He and I... we are... no longer what we were, or what I hoped we could have been," he whispers finally, and perhaps it is the open sadness in his voice that makes Nori withdraw the knife from his throat, or pity at the pathetic look on his face. Either way, the blade pulls away, and Kili lets himself take a tentative breath, staring nervously at the thoughtful expression the King's Spymaster now wore. 

Nori releases him and settles comfortably down on a crate of cleaning soaps, inviting Kili to join him with a sweep of his hand. The brunet Prince is slow to oblige, now hopelessly confused, and once the knife has been put away he sinks down onto an upturned bucket, staring at his knees.

"Now, my Prince. Do tell me what happened, and don't lie because then you're just wasting my time, and we both know that would be incredibly unwise," Nori hums idly, drawing out his pipe and stuff tobacco into the bowl, his gaze never wavering from Kili's face.

Swallowing down the prickle of discomfort at the unnervingly shrewd eyes fixed on him, Kili sighs, and twists the edge of his tunic between his fingers, feeling less like a Prince of Erebor and more like a dwarfling getting a thorough scolding.

"Ori is my One," he said finally, looking up in time to see that Nori looking entirely unsurprised, twin streams of smoke coming from his nose as he waits for Kili to continue.

Feeling emboldened by the fact Nori hasn't buried a knife to the hilt in his chest, yet, Kili goes on, eyes flitting between his shoes and the ginger dwarf before him.

"Now that I'm finally a Prince, I thought that maybe.. Well, I thought that maybe an offer of courting wouldn't go amiss. But I didn't know what to do so I let my brother talk me into picking him flowers, like the hobbits in the Shire, and I found these pretty gold and yellow ones by the forest that I thought would look so nice in his hair, and then these purple ones that match the purple of his favourite tunic! But it only seemed to upset him and he spurned me."

Kili felt a frown digging at the corners of his mouth at remembering Ori's dismissal of his gesture. Even if you did not return someone's affections, you still turned them down politely and respectfully. You didn't throw their courting gift on the ground!

And what right did _Ori_ have to be unhappy, after rejecting Kili so rudely?

His angry thoughts are interrupted by a bark of amused laughter from Nori, and he looks up at the Spymaster with an incredulous look on his face, mouth open. What had he ever done to the clan of Ri to earn such scorn, Kili did wonder!

"Golden and purple flowers you found by the forest, huh," Nori hummed, still chuckling as he extinguished the smoldering embers in the bowl of his pipe. "That certainly explains a lot."

_Maybe for you,_ Kili thought sourly, standing up in a flurry to leave. He had already been cruelly rejected by his One, he didn't have to put up with being mocked, as well.

Nori's hand snaps out to stop him from going, the middle Ri brother standing so he can meet Kili's gaze, the smirk on his lips a bit softer than before, and decidedly less threatening.

"Listen, Princeling. I tell you this because I care deeply for my brother and do not wish to see him hurting," Nori began, arching a braided eyebrow at the brunet, "but trust me when I say you should try one more time with our little scribe."

Kili splutters at this, indignant and angry that Nori would even make the suggestion. Why in Mahal's name would he subject himself to that rejection again? But before he can voice his protest, Nori is silencing him with a raised hand, letting his arm drape around Kili's shoulders.

"Just give it one more try. And this time, just be you. Not Prince Kili, heir to the throne. My brother is a simple dwarf, and you won't win him over with pretty gestures or gold or jewels, dear Prince." 

Kili has no idea why Nori is helping him, but he nods slowly, and his lingering uncertainty must have shown on his face, for the Spymaster is squeezing his shoulders and pushing him to the door.

"Oh, and Kili? No more flowers. And no more advice from meddlesome older brothers," Nori added with a wink, closing the store room door behind them and striding away down the hall.

The youngest Durin is pretty sure that it would be impossible to follow Nori's suggestions without ultimately disobeying his last order, but he squares his shoulders and heads for the forges, determined this time to succeed or Mahal help him die trying.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Kili finds Ori two days later in the great Library of Erebor, he knows he looks a horrid mess with his hair in a tangled, messy ponytail at the base of his skull, covered in ash, and smelling of sweat and hot metal from the forge. He's triumphant under all that, however, as he places the large, cotton wrapped gift on the table in front of the scribe, eyes shining with hope.

He feels his excitement wane a little at the look of utter disinterest he gets from Ori, who reaches out to pull the edges of the fabric away, revealing a reasonably large warhammer, similar to Dwalin's Grasper and Keeper in design, with a handle made of finely tooled leather. Ori's crest was carved into the head of the hammer, and a little quill was painstakingly stitched into the leather. It was a feat of craftsmanship, and Kili had felt proud of it, only hoping that Ori liked it.

"What is this, Kili?" the young scribe asked slowly, running ink stained fingers over the smooth metal and leather, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

He startled when Kili suddenly bowed low to him, staring at him in shock.

"Kili, what-!"

"Ori of Brothers Ri, I Kili, son of Dis, do humbly request the honor to court you as my beloved and as my One, from this point forward and for all of time, until death parts us and we are reunited once more in the halls of our Fathers!" he says in a rush, hands fisted at his side and breath catching in his chest. What if Ori still refused him? Kili didn't think he'd survive being turned down a second time.

He looks up at the sound of a clearing throat, desperation etched in every line of his face as he met Ori's gaze, a determined set to his jaw.

The scribe was staring at him thoughtfully, now, reaching out to lay a hand on the hammer, never looking away from Kili once.

"Why did you make a hammer for me, Kili?" he asked quietly, and Kili felt his heart leap into his mouth. Did Ori hate it? Ori hated it.

He gnawed on his lip before letting out a defeated sigh, pulling at the filthy edge of his tunic.

"Because my One is a fierce warrior in his own right, and has a skill with a war hammer that even Dwalin would admire, when he chooses to reveal it. And what better gift to show my One that I adore him, trust him, and respect him as an equal than to gift him with a way to protect himself?" Kili said honestly, keeping his gaze steady on Ori and willing the dwarf to believe the sincerity in his words.

And then Ori is smiling so beautifully that Kili feels his stomach twist into a pit, watching as the scribe picks up the hammer and hefts it experimentally, admiring the careful etching and embroidery.

"I don't need a husband that treats me like a delicate petal that needs to be protected or taken care of," Ori said slowly, and Kili feels so hopeful he's about to burst with it, mouth opening to insist he would never do that to the scribe, only to be silenced by the youngest Ri brother's raised finger.

Apparently it's a family trait.

"And I don't need a husband who pretends to be something he is not to try and woo me."

Kili felt a flush rise in his cheeks at that and he swallowed thickly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"And for that, I do apologize. I wanted to impress you and do something special, because you're the most special thing in the entirety of Middle Earth to me, and Fili mentioned Bilbo's story about the Shire tradition of giving flowers, and I thought maybe you might-!"

Ori cuts him off with a kiss, and Kili is so shocked he doesn't get a chance to respond before it's over, Ori grinning at him with fondness dancing in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> In the language of flowers, according to Wiki, marigolds symbolize "pain and grief", hydrangeas symbolize "frigidness", and yellow carnations symbolize "rejection and disdain". So you can understand why Ori was a bit grumpy to receive such a bouquet.
> 
> Nori would understand the meaning of flowers, both as a brother of the educated and intelligent Dori and Ori, and also as a Spymaster expected to know a number of useful languages.


End file.
